...but It Doesn't Feel Crazy To Us.

I Don't Want To Because Boys Don't Write Poetry. Girls Do.

Maybe It Was The Same With People: If You Studied Them,you'd See New And Different Things. But Would You Like What You Saw? Did It Depend On Who Was Doing The Looking?

So Much Depends Upon A Blue Car Splattered With Mud Speeding Down The Road.

Then I Thought, Boy, Isn't That Just Typical? You Wait And Wait And Wait For Something, And Then When It Happens, You Feel Sad.

As Readers Can Probably Tell From My Books, I Love The Outdoors.